


Sick Day II

by mamey2422



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 20:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21415870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamey2422/pseuds/mamey2422
Summary: Beth takes care of Rio when he gets sick. Complementary to my original “Sick Day” fic where Rio takes care of Beth. Take place between 2x6 and 2x9.________________Gratitude was a dormant emotion for Rio. Having someone care about him, take care of him, felt like a foggy memory. He’s normally the one in charge, making sure everyone was how they should be. And he was definitely not used to seeing this side of Beth. Warm and thoughtful instead of the defiant posturing she usually threw at him.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	Sick Day II

Rio was a man of self-determination. His successes and failures were always in his hands. He had complete control of all parts of his life. 

Except when it came to stomach bugs. Three days ago he woke up early like always, ready to get Marcus to school and start a morning of meetings. Crime never rested, after all. But as soon as Rio got out of bed, he felt weak and nauseous. His chest ached, his head hurt. Rio brushed off most sickness as an annoyance, but this was bad enough for him to call Marcus’ mom for backup, crawl back into bed, and hole himself up in his apartment, phone off, shades drawn. 

He barely moved since then, an unshowered, unshaven heap on his bed. He only stirred at a knocking somewhere in the distance. Eventually he realized it was at his door. Rio ignored it, too tired to answer. Whoever it was could wait. 

But the knock turned into a more insistent pounding. 

“Rio? Are you in there?” 

Beth’s stern, firm voice finally got his attention. He heard her use that tone before, around her kids, sometimes with him when she wanted something done her way instead of his. She wasn’t screwing around. 

He forced himself out of bed, the walk across the room taking a huge achy effort. He barely opened the door before she stormed by him. 

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for days. What is going on? Cars haven’t been delivered at all this week.”

Rio didn’t answer, didn’t ask how she found his address, too exhausted to care. He fell back into bed, burying his face in the pillows. He couldn’t see the shock on Beth’s face as his condition and surroundings finally registered. His typically meticulous apartment was dark and messy. The floor littered with tissues, tea cups and sweaty t-shirts. Rio lay limp and ashen on the bed. 

“Rio?” This time there was concern in her voice. 

“Rio?” He felt his bed dip as she sat beside him. 

“I’m fine,” he muffled through his pillow. He felt her hand run gently over his back, tugging down his sheet to get a better assessment. 

“You don’t look fine.” 

All he could manage was a mumble. 

“How long have you been like this?”

“Yesterday. No, Monday. What day is it?”

Sympathy spread across Beth’s face, quickly replaced by determination. She dropped her purse on the floor, threw off her coat. 

Rio heard shuffling, peeking out of his sheet cocoon to see Beth picking up his litter and going through his kitchen cabinets, pulling out various pots and boxes. 

“Will you go take a shower? I’ll make you some soup.” 

“No.”

“You need a long shower then a good, hot meal.”

Recognizing the fight Beth was ready to put up, and with no energy to object, Rio got up. Besides, based on the griminess of his skin, a hot shower probably was in order. 

Rio was greeted by the savory aroma of chicken soup when he re-emerged fifteen minutes later, a towel wrapped around his waist. Beth stood in front of his stove, moving efficiently despite the unfamiliar kitchen. 

“Feel better?” Beth asked when she noticed him, blinking once, then twice, at the sight of a shirtless Rio. 

“Yeah.” 

“I changed your sheets and there are fresh clothes on the bed. Soup is almost ready.” 

Rio looked around. The shades were up, sunlight filling the room. All remnants of his misery gone. Beth found his container of Clorox wipes, the smell of disinfectant wafting in the air. And he was starting to feel better too. How much of that was the natural progression of his bug or the shower or simply Beth’s presence he couldn’t tell or admit. 

“You work quick.” 

Rio got dressed, not bothering for the privacy of his bathroom or closet. He might not be operating at one hundred percent but he still had it in him to fluster Beth, tease her with his actual naked body instead of just innuendo. He smirked when she dramatically turned her back to him as he put on the pair of sweatpants and t-shirt she had pulled out for him. 

The moment he settled on the couch, Beth stood in front of him, tray in hand. 

“Here you go,” she placed an array of chicken soup, saltines and ginger ale on his lap. 

“You don’t need to do this.” 

“When I was home sick, my grandmother would bring me chicken soup on a tray and kiss my eyes, cheeks, nose and a last one on my forehead to check my fever. She called it the six-kiss cure. It always made me feel better.”

“Thank you.” 

Gratitude was a dormant emotion for Rio. Having someone care about him, take care of him, felt like a foggy memory. He’s normally the one in charge, making sure everyone was how they should be. 

And he was definitely not used to seeing this side of Beth. Warm and thoughtful instead of the defiant posturing she usually threw at him. 

He inhaled the soup, his appetite finally catching up with him. Beth continued to clean as he ate, moving his sheets into the washing machine as if she did it everyday for him. 

“That was delicious,” Rio said as he placed his empty bowl on the table. 

Before Beth could swoop it away, he gently grabbed her by the wrist. 

“Want to watch a movie with me?” The words came out without him even thinking about them. 

“What?”

“That’s what I did when I stayed home sick. My mom let me watch whatever movie I wanted.” 

Rio caught her off guard. His offer, the glimpse into his childhood were so un-Rio like. She’s intrigued at the thought of spending time with him outside of work, at what else unexpected he might share, at simply being two people watching a movie. Beth checked her watch. The kids were with Dean so it was a rare night without obligation. 

“What did you have in mind?”

“You a Vin Diesel fan? How does Fast and Furious sound?”

“Sure,” Beth giggled. She would have never pegged Rio as an action movie guy, maybe because his real life was way more dangerous than any Hollywood script. He could pick apart plot flaws in the same way a doctor might a medical show. But everything about him was curveball. She should know that by now. “I can stay for a little bit.”

She curled up on the opposite end of the couch. Rio pulled a large, soft throw blanket over them, making sure Beth’s toes were covered. 

Hours later, Rio woke up, groggy but the nausea and achiness were gone, replaced by a soothing pressure at his neck. His head was on Beth’s lap, her hand gently massaging his scalp. He must have fallen fast asleep as soon as the movie started, then mindlessly – maybe instinctively – curled himself toward Beth. Vin Diesel was still on the TV screen but he was in Brazil, the third or fourth sequel, so Rio knew he had been asleep for awhile. 

Rio sat up and grinned when their eyes met. He looked at Beth intently. A woman in his apartment, his space, his life didn’t happen anymore. His home was nice and expensive and functional, a practical base for him and Marcus. But for some reason, with Beth there it felt different, more like a home, a place he wanted her to be comfortable in. 

“You should have woken me up,” Rio said, almost sheepishly. 

“You were tired and needed sleep…” Beth trailed off, uncertain how to finish her sentence. Unwilling to admit she liked being curled up with him. 

Rio wanted to tell her thank you, to say more than that too. But words led to more words and up until this moment, he had done a good job of pretending he’d been keeping his feelings for Beth in check. That this thing between them was fleeting, a passing moment of opposites attracting. But Beth’s concern had been real. So were the emotions that spread in his chest at her gestures. He hadn’t asked her to come, hadn’t asked her to stay. But she had done both. He was starting to worry he had no defense against her. 

So he stayed silent, a dreamy fog settling between them. Something about his expression was new, struck Beth deep under her heart. Like nothing existed in that moment except him and her. 

Beth was the first to move. She stood up, gently draping the blanket over Rio. 

Before turning to leave, Beth bent down and kissed each of Rio’s eyelids, each of his cheeks, the tip of his nose and finally his forehead. She’s tempted to add an extra one on his lips but leaned back. 

“Six kiss cure?” Rio’s voice was quiet, strained with arousal, tinged with disappointment that this moment was ending. This taste of domesticity between them just a tease. 

“I’m glad you feel better.” Her words were soft and sincere. “There’s leftover soup in the fridge.” 

With the finality of knowing Rio was on the mend, food in his stomach, his next meal already prepped, and before she reconsidered that kiss, Beth picked up her purse and coat and let herself out.

Rio lay back down on the couch, the spot where Beth had been sitting soft and warm. He hugged the pillow she’d been resting on and inhaled deeply. It smelled like her. Clean and citrusy and addictive.


End file.
